Friends are thicker than water
by BlackxValentine
Summary: Eames is taken from his apartment and thrown into a situation of life and death with someone he already knows. Some one that the team knows very well. How far is this person willing to go for the answers he desires?
1. Chapter One

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inception**

**The music listened to while writing this was 'One Simple Idea' and 'Dream Is Collapsing' from Inception soundtrack.**

**Anyway, on with the chapter**

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"What'll it be, handsome?"

Eames' steady gaze was broken by the voice of an unfamiliar woman near him; the quiet shifting and scooting of the bar stool pulling all his thoughts out of his grasp as she took a seat next to him. Her strawberry blond hair falling over half her somewhat pointed face while the rest curled to the middle of her back, the stunning black dress she wore showed enough cleavage to attract any man as she leaned closer to him.

Shining blue eyes staring into his stormy gray ones as if to try and make him bend to her will like a puppet on strings.

Snaking one arm around his shoulders slowly while her chin just barely touched his shoulder, the smell of her perfume was strong as she scooted her bar stool closer to him. Eames looked down at the small glass that was half empty in front of him, clearly trying to show her he wasn't interested but found it to be in vain as the woman continued to try and seduce him.

"It's on me," the forger felt a strange feeling run down his back as her mint smelling breath hit his ear, a sudden uneasiness came over as he looked at the woman, the voice allowed small hints of lustfulness that could get any man into bed with her. Eames' stomach knotted as he swallowed a forming lump in his throat.

The woman's angelic face and offer would usually make Eames accept and smile graciously at the thought of having some small talk over a drink. He rarely slept around; only once or twice did he do it in his younger years while experimenting as he looked her up and down again. Analyzing her carefully in the dim bar lights. She had what appeared to be an hourglass figure that was nicely curved as she sat cross legged, her dress pulling tighter around the middle of her thighs, like he said before, this was usually someone he'd have a drink with in a bar. Maybe flirt with for a bit.

However, this time was different. He just didn't feel right, something was off with this woman; small hints in the flirtatious body language that he'd become used to and learned to read over the years was now setting off red flags in his mind that continued to race with questions that had no answer. Too many things were just not right as he threw a bill and gracious tip to the bar tender.

"No thank you, I must be going." Eames stood and left the bar quickly, his heart swelling again with uncertainty as he continuously rubbed his totem around in his pocket. He swore his fingers were red from how much he'd tried to replicate it, only to find the poker chip was normal.

One piece, not two, not three; just one. That confirms this is no dream..**. **So what's this feeling?

'_I don't like this.'_

Eames stepped out of the bar, staring up at the multicolored sky caused by the setting sun as he started down the street to his apartment. A small place that he had under a false name that he would stay at when visiting Cobb and the others, nothing fancy, just simple and plain. The only thing that really decorated it was the mess he made stumbling out of bed in the morning after a night of one too many drinks, something he tried to avoid as well.

Eames' made it a high priority on his list to never let himself get out of control with the drinking, not only did it cloud his judgment but it risked his true identity and many other secrets being announced to the world for any enemy to grab onto the use against him. Something he always kept in mind when going out to have a drink by himself or with an acquaintance.

The forger stood straight, trying to look as casual as possible while keeping on hand in his pocket; his finger tips resting on the pocket knife he kept on him whenever he left the apartment. The sound of his shoes hitting the concrete while people around him chatted about almost meaningless things were nearly overbearing as he tried to concentrate.

'_Don't hear anyone following,'_ he thought to himself as the apartment building started getting closer, relief beginning to creep its way into his heart while the uneasiness stayed strong. Gently pushing people aside, he got through the crowds and made his way up the stairs of the slightly run down building.

Counting every step unconsciously while keeping his ears trained for any kind of subtle sound, his eyes scanning everything around him. One would call it being paranoid, and maybe it was, but with his job… It was a way of life.

Looking over your shoulder and being cautious everywhere you go with every step you take.

That sentence burned itself into Eames' mind when he first learned about the dreaming business, it was a rule he lived by as a forger. He'd learned how to heighten his senses over many years of practice; it's an important thing to have in this line of work.

Eames still had that feeling in the pit of his stomach, he couldn't shake it even as he made his way down the small hallway, stopping at his door and unlocking it. Opening it slowly. Keeping his fingers on the cool metal side of the knife as he stepped over the threshold, the familiar smell of air freshener hitting him that came from the direction of his kitchen.

Stepping into his small apartment with caution, shutting the door and making his way to the living room that only held a couch and coffee table. Nothing was out of place as he check his bathroom and kitchen, both seemed fine as he made his way to the bedroom; pushing the door open just as a sound came from the front door. The forger's head snapped to the left, looking past the edge of the bedroom doorway to stare at the front door while slowly pulling himself back. Approaching the door and gripping the handle, he turned it, pulling it open a crack to find it was that same woman from the bar. Eames' grip on the handle tightened as he shut the door, not letting her get a word out before another sound came from his apartment.

This time from one of the other rooms as he turned to face the small hall that led to his living room with his back to the door, keeping his breathing in check and his senses sharp as he locked the door. Creeping down the hall with his pocket knife out and at the ready, his eyes shifted back and forth between the open living room and his bedroom door. Eames stopped just as he stepped out of the hallway; he peered around the room as it hit him again. An unfamiliar smell faintly present beneath the air freshener that quickly sent up more red flags, followed by a creak of one of the wooden panels that was loose.

Enough to make him turn quickly to face the person behind him, plunging the small knife into the man's chest, followed by a hard punch to his jaw that sent him back into the wood cabinets as Eames bolted for the bedroom door. Making it past the doorway when someone came out of the bathroom beside it, tackling the forger to the ground.

The impact was hard enough to put Eames in a small daze as his vision swam; the large man who was clearly over two hundred pounds of muscle beginning to get up off the floor as Eames pushed himself up. Forcing his legs to get him to the dresser as he tried to catch his breath and his head pounded. He could feel a small trickle of blood coming down the right side of his face as he pulled out the top drawer, ripping away the clothing and searching frantically as the large man who tackled him planted his heavy feet on the ground with a thud. Eames turned at the sound of a low chuckle, only to find the man holding the gun as if holding a treat for a dog. Waving it back and forth with a smile.

"Looking for this?"

"Bloody bleeder," Eames remarked, swallowing as he looked to the man and bedroom doorway continuously before deciding to make a run for it; making it into the next room with the large man right on his tail. His large hand grabbing Eames shirt collar and throwing him to the side, letting go of him at the last second which caused the forger to fly for a moment. Rolling over the couch and breaking the coffee table with his back, the couch was quickly flipped as the thug ran in his direction; to this Eames decided to take a shot. Getting to his feet, he threw himself in the direction of the man, his full body weight colliding with the thug's as he struggled to get the gun from him.

The weapon was held tight in the man's hands before he quickly threw it to the side, the action shocked Eames as the man proceeded to pick up the forger who continued to fight. Punching the thug in the face to find it not hurting him at all as he threw Eames through the glass doors that led to his balcony. The man's skin cut from the small shards of glass as he landed hard on the cement, reaching out; Eames grabbed a large piece of glass in front of him. Waiting until the large man came his way before thrusting it into his stomach, the thugs' gasp was barely audible as he looked down at the shard that was sticking out of his shirt.

Eames took this opportunity to scramble to his feet and limp past the man, making his way out the door to find more men making their way down the hallway; each of them dressed in suits. He could only make out two or three of them coming in his direction, breaking into a run when they spotted the forger who also broke into a painful sprint.

The sun now set as the night sky was filled with moonlight, barely giving Eames enough light to make his way down the steps. He was nearly to the first level of stairs when someone came around the corner, taking hold of his shirt and slamming their forehead into his with a resounding crack. The impact made Eames stumble, one hand unconsciously grabbing his forehead while the other tried to push past the man.

The dazed forger had no time to counter the man's next move as he was punched hard in the jaw before being hurled down the stairs, each one hitting Eames' adrenaline filled body before he finally crumpled at the bottom. The adrenaline wearing off as he reached out weakly, gripping for anything in front of him to find nothing to hold onto.

His fingertips bent as he dragged himself along the concrete, his head bleeding as he spit out a bit of blood from where he landed hard on one of the stairs. His white shirt and black jeans torn and dirty, small blood stains covering them in places as he tried to escape.

Looking at the crowded parking lot to find a car pulling into an empty spot across the lot from him, one hand reaching out as if to grab the person who was exiting the vehicle. He knew they wouldn't see him from where he was, two cars leaving barely enough room to seeing him on the ground from where they stood as he groaned while trying to form words.

"_Help,"_ the word seemed to die in his throat as he tried to say it a second time, the slow clicks of shoes coming down the stairs making his heart race. His cut lips stung as he said the word again, only to find it not going above a weak rasp just as the large man from the apartment grabbed hold of his ankles.

Roughly pulling him across the concrete and delivering a powerful punch to the forger's cheekbone; a smile appearing at the sight of Eames head falling to the side limply before he was carelessly thrown across the man's shoulder. His chin hitting the middle of the thugs back as he glanced up towards the couple who were walking away from their car, _"help…"_

Again the rasp fell on deaf ears as he was carried around back, now barely conscious as the thug threw him into the trunk of a car and slammed it shut. Eames' body landed at a position that made everything ache worse, one arm sitting behind his back at an awkward angle while his legs were bent tightly from the cramped space. His head resting on the floor of the trunk, blood dripping from the cut on his forehead and mouth as he slipped into unconsciousness when the car hit a large bump in the street.

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**That's all for now, the next chapter will deal with Cobb and the others when they discover his wrecked apartment.**


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inception**

**Am currently fixing up this story to hopefully make it more entertaining for you all.  
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**I hope you like it.  
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Cobb sat at the coffee shop alone, his foot tapping anxiously against the concrete as he glared down at the wrist watch that now read _'12:30'_. The sounds of people passing him and talking from all around wasn't really helping his patience that was beginning to fade as he heaved a sigh before getting up, he knew Eames had a tendency to be late, but never this late.

"Thank you," he said politely to hide his irritation, giving the woman behind the counter a nice smile before pushing his way through the door. Holding it open for two people come in who thanked him before he set off down the sidewalk, staring out at the people ahead before deciding to call his friend. The continuous ringing wasn't making him feel any better about the odd situation.

All the ringing concluded when the beep of his answering machine sounded, the small sound caused Cobb to shift his weight to the other foot as he stopped walking. "Hey Eames, its Cobb. Call me back as soon as you get this."

Short and to the point, many different scenarios came to mind as he tried to figure out what may have happened. He could have had some company last night, maybe had one too many and was nursing a hangover; however all these were quickly labeled false in the extractors mind as he remembered how careful Eames was about his drinking and the fact that he rarely ever took someone home to stay the night.

He dialed another number he knew by heart, the anxious feeling coming back in the pit of his stomach. "Arthur, have you talked to Eames?"

_"No."_ The reply was flat; Cobb could see the look on his friends face through the phone as he thought of where the forger may be at this time, the afternoon was bright and warm as he marked all of Eames' usual spots in his head before questioning Arthur again.

"Well, have you seen him today?"

_"No, why?"_ The point man's voice was still monotone but showed a hint of curiosity as the extractor again sighed before thinking to himself, his hand going through his hair. "I have to go."

_"Cobb, wa-"_ He didn't have time to explain it to his friend as he shut the phone, slipping it back into his pocket and began making his way to the local bar; the building as usual was busy and loud. Something the forger seemed to enjoy considering the place he took up residence; alcohol and smoke were the strongest smells in there as they hit Cobb like a ton of bricks.

He never could get used to the smell as he slowly made his way through the groups of people, looking over every table and bar stool to find his friend was not there. The usual place he sat taken by someone else, Cobb had to fight his way through the crowd to get to the counter; the bar tender stood filling glasses before throwing a nod in Cobb's direction.

"What'll you have?" He all but shouted over the loud noise as Cobb got closer to him, "I'm looking for a friend. Tall British guy, usually sits over where that man is." He explained while pointing towards the beefy man.

The bar tender shook his head, "No, he ain't been in here today, but he was in here last night." He scratched his head as if to jog his memory of the events last night, his bad breath and less than appealing appearance was something Cobb would rather not see more than once as he snapped his fingers.

"Came in for one drink, talked to the girl and then left."

"Did the woman go with him?" "Nope, he left by himself." The bar tender said quickly with a sure voice, remembering the nice tip the British man had left him. "Looked a little weirded out though." He added, his face looking a little concerned as he remembered the expression on the man's face before he left.

"Alright, thanks." Cobb left the bar as quick as he could, happy to smell the fresh air and feel the sunlight hit his skin at just the right angle. _'Takes a lot to weird Eames out.'_ He thought to himself as he quickly made his way to the forger's apartment building that was a few blocks away from the bar.

Getting to the stairway at the front of the building, something caught Cobb's eye. Some red splatter on the concrete with a small trail, like something had been dragged before it ended abruptly; that alone raised Cobb's red flags as he started up the stairs. Looking at the steps to see more little red marks that were here and there, leading to the top of the stairs.

Cobb stepped onto the second floor, avoiding the red spots that were all over the ground as he stopped in front of Eames' door. He tried the handle to find the door was unlocked; the feeling of concern began bubbling up as Cobb cursed himself for not having his gun. Pushing the door open slowly before stepping inside, he made it down the hallway to find the apartment in shambles.

"Eames?" He called quietly, his voice strong as he stepped into the kitchen; blood was on the floorboards and the cabinets were smashed. Taking precautions, he took a kitchen knife from the drawer and made his way to the bedroom to find it also a wreck.

The dresser drawer was thrown open with clothes thrown around carelessly; an empty spot inside the drawer where Cobb knew Eames' kept his gun didn't help to calm his uneasiness. Stuck to a piece of floorboard was a piece of clothing that had been torn as the dirty shoe prints indicated someone had come from the bathroom, on the floor a few feet from the torn clothing was Eames' cell phone. The extractor carefully walked over to that spot, picking up the small device and gripping it tightly as anger began to raise in him.

"Eames!" Cobb called again, this time with more force as he walked around the overturned couch and broken coffee table; the dirty shoes prints leading him from there to the broken window doors which showed clear signs that someone had been thrown through. Blood was on the edges of the small glass pieces that were scattered across the balcony, the crinkle of them as Cobb stepped down made him shake his head as he noticed the blood trail leading from there to the door. It was only then he realized it had been made when Eames tried to escape his attackers.

Cobb whipped out his phone, dialing Arthur as quickly as he could while looking over the entire scene before him while picturing what most likely happened to cause all the damage. _"Hello?"_

"Arthur, get to Eames' apartment." The point man sighed, _"Why?"_

The silence between the two of them was unnerving as the extractor analyzed over everything he'd seen, the blood leading to the first floor and stopping made sense now. All of it sadly led back to a conclusion that Cobb didn't want to think about.

_"Cobb?"_

"Eames was abducted."

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**I'm sorry this one is so short, I'm going to be gone for the weekend and I will not be able to get any writing done so I just wanted to get another chapter up for all of you. Thank you so much for all the support.**


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inception**

**Sorry for the late chapter guys, my computer got a virus so I had to wait for that to all blow over. :(**

**Hate viruses so much, but that's beside the point, I just hope this chapter is to your liking. Songs I listened to while writing this were 'Inception soundtrack - Time' and 'Orgy – Blue Monday'. By the way, because I recently watched 'Stuart: A life backwards' recently I must write. Rest in Peace Stuart Shorter.**

**Anyways, I'm rambling, sorry. **

**Enjoy**

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Eames' pain was almost absent as he finally managed to block it out, building up invisible walls to hide behind as his mind reeled with questions that he couldn't give an answer to at the moment. Why was he here? What did they want?

They were corporate men that he knew for sure, based on the nice suits and from the way they casually managed to take him down; Eames could tell they were professionals and did anything to get what they needed. His clever eyes studied their moves quick and found them to be somewhat spontaneous in their fighting style but careful about leaving too much evident behind.

Sure, a good portion of his apartment was now in shambles, but they were sure to leave the concrete that his face met fairly clean, only leaving behind some faint blood trails as they quietly deposited him into the trunk and drove off like nothing had happened. Now the only thing the forger wanted to know was why they did it, and that was something he felt would reveal itself very soon.

He shifted uncomfortably in the trunk, trying to get somewhat comfortable as they hit bumps and dips in the road that pushed the pain harder against his invisible walls. Testing them for their strength as he bit down on his cut bottom lip, snapping his eyes shut and picturing himself somewhere else, thinking about a past job, colleague, the last meal he ate. Anything to distract himself until the car came to a full stop.

The darkness was suddenly taken away as a bright light blinded the forger who was caught by surprise, the thoughts he had before as a distraction were all jumbled as he tried to get back his vision that refused to clear. Through the blurry fog came a dark shadow that came down on his temple like a brick, causing his head to hit and bounce off the bottom of the trunk.

Leaving Eames in a world between what seemed to be life and death, he could barely grasp the words they spoke as he tried to calm his rapid heartbeat caused by the sudden explosion that made his head throb more while his palms began to sweat. His distracting thoughts now fallen messy pile that Eames couldn't shift through as two large hands grabbed his button down shirt roughly; he felt three of the top buttons pop off when they pulled him upwards.

"Just drag 'em in, the boss likes them to be roughed up before we hand them over." A more high pitched voice was all he could really make out, the words were all distorted to his slightly ringing ears as he felt himself lifted into the air carelessly before being thrown forcefully to the concrete. His invisible walls seemed to finally give out, allowing the pain to resurface and mix in with the new ache running throughout his body. A foot came down inches from his face just before he spit some blood.

It didn't go far, but still managed to hit the thugs black shoe, to which the man scoffed before driving his shoe into Eames' rib cage. The sudden retaliation left him breathless, it felt like a blow dealt by a big hammer as the forger forcefully remembered the strength of his captors; clearly remembering how he was launched through the air only to land on the coffee table. The pain made his thoughts scatter so far that he couldn't even focus on one as they took hold of his ankles, dragging him across the ground and into a large doorway of what he guessed to be some kind of warehouse.

He turned slowly; his dizziness was clear as he fought through the fog of ache that caused his vision to be spotty while his small calls for help were nothing more than whispers. Eames gripped for any crack in the ground, some deeper than others, but none allowing his weak fingers to grip long enough to try and pull himself from their grasp. The realization that he was screwed began to slowly sink in as he continued to try for a crack on the floor, a wall edge, anything to give him reassurance that he wasn't as helpless as he felt. The tall man that he'd singled out as the one with the higher voice took pleasure in his struggles until deciding to finally end it by planting his foot on the forger's hand, leaving behind a shoe mark from the dirt that covered the bottom as the man weakly groaned. Refusing to give them the satisfaction of hearing anymore cries of pain as he was thrown into a larger room, he felt every dump and pile of dust personally as he slid across the floor and stopped on his side.

"Hello Mr. Eames," the voice that echoed from the darkness in front of him sent a shiver through his hurting form; the forger narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see the man better as the clicking of expensive shoes broke the silence. Followed by some polite words that spilled from a sinister mouth, the man's tone made the forger picture a rattlesnake ready to strike. "I trust you're having a nice evening."

"Oh, it's been wonderful mate," Eames was irritated by the sound of his own voice. The pathetic, raw sound coming out of his blood filled mouth seemed to please the man he assumed to be the leader of all this; the Englishman swore he heard the rattle moving as the gang's leader continued to approach. The man's quiet chuckle was enough to confirm this as the footsteps stopped at the edge that separated the darkness from the faint light above them. "All we need is some women and wine to really get the party started."

"I can see you're not a naive man, so I'll get right to the point. Where are Arthur Levitt and Dominic Cobb?"

The questions seemed to activate a defensive system inside the forger as he bit down on his tongue before setting his mind to one simple thing, you don't know anything. Over and over his mind processed that seemingly simple request as he convinced himself to not talk no matter what they put him through; he wouldn't give up his friend's locations, even if it meant his death. Instead of responding with the answer the leader wanted, Eames flashed him a sly, bloodied smirk with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "That I'm takin' to the grave."

"Fine, I can see how it's going to be. Take him away gentlemen," the stiff waved his hand lazily in the direction of the door that they'd thrown the forger through, one hand behind his straight back, Eames couldn't help but notice that he walked away like someone worthy of royalty. One foot stopping mid step as he let out a small gasp, like he'd forgotten something before turning completely around to face the roughed up man with a gentle smile.

"I shall inform you Mr. Eames that we have our ways of getting information out of even the most hardened man."

"Big talk for a man who has his goons do all the work," Eames spit out the first sentence that came to mind after looking at the man, he felt confident in his words but the strange look in the leaders eyes sent the familiar feeling of growing uncertainty through Eames as he began to wonder what kind of things they planned on doing. At this, the leader scoffed before turning back around to let his back face Eames.

"Believe me Mr. Eames, when we see each other again. I shall talk to you up close and personal, now if you'll excuse me. I believe I have a lunch to attend to, have a pleasant evening." With that, the man left, not saying another word as Eames felt himself pulled from the floor. All the pain from before coming back as the clack of shoes against the concrete kept his attention, keeping him from losing consciousness until they reached what he assumed to be his cell.

"Couldn't afford to get me a nicer suite?"

The thug rolled his eyes before throwing Eames into the small concrete room, his back slammed into the wall hard before he crumpled to the ground. Hearing the sounds of chuckles while the metal door was shutting, the only light provided was from beneath the door, a small section of the concrete had been chipped away enough to allow in a small amount a light, sadly it didn't provide enough for Eames to see every inch of the room he was in.

All he could make out was a hard floor that felt like it was covered with dirt and most likely dried blood, cracks in the floor were wet from a part of the ceiling that was probably cracked as well. The sounds of dripping water echoed through his ears as he felt slightly relieved that there was some source of water in here, no matter how small or dirtied.

It was only when the pain in his back, ribs and left temple ceased that he finally was able to fall into a sleep that he hoped would bring him some kind of peace for the time being.

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Nothing could have prepared Arthur for what he witnessed when he got to the apartment building that Cobb had called from, he could see the blood spots on the concrete and could tell where the dirt on the ground had been moved in a direction that revealed someone had been dragged. Slowly he made his way inside to find the apartment a wreck, finding Cobb sitting on the bed in Eames' room with a look of anger as he looked at Arthur; the point man could see the want for revenge in the extractor's eyes and knew that his own eyes reflected the desire.

The damage done to the apartment mixed with the fact that someone was able to take Eames down was astonishing to them both, the forger had always been one to count on in a fight and had a good set of guns. Very rarely did Eames ever lose in a fight. That fact alone fueled the extractors need to see Eames safe.

"I'm going to find whoever did this," Cobb's hands balled up into tight fists as he looked around the trashed home of his friend, stopping his gaze when it was set on Arthur who only showed his anger through his eyes. Arthur didn't need to stop and think about his next course of action, the want to protect his team was too strong as he also balled up one hand.

"We're going to find Eames and take him back at any cost, that I promise."

Arthur looked around a little more and finally sighed to himself, his shoulders slightly slumping as he rubbed his eyes. The small shards of glass moving under his shoes as he walked back down stairs and towards the small hallway that led to the back of the building, the dirt that showed evidence of something being dragged stopping at the end of the hall where the point man stared out at the empty parking lot.

'_He put up a fight, that's for sure__.__'_

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**I hope you all enjoyed this chapter, I know it was mostly Eames and what's happening with him but I really wanted to put a bit of Arthur and Cobb friendship in there. Also, I couldn't think of a last name that would fit Arthur so I used the last name of the actor who plays him.  
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	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inception**

**Sorry for the delay, had writers block... And the fact that I have been playing Batman Arkham Asylum for the past few days and watched Inception two more times. (Watching it again while writing this) XP**

**Anyway, I hope you all enjoy**

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The darkness of this room was slowly beginning to close in, the forgers dulled eyes shifting to find some brief twinkle of light that wasn't there. Nothing but darkness, nothing to shine warmth and comfort for him, it was just black. Like the blackened color of his tongue as he lies through his teeth, the dark color in his heart whenever he committed an act of murder or theft. Events that make him question himself, his actions, his line of work..**. **Do I deserve this? Has all my deceit finally caught up with me?

Every question without a true answer, and every answer was questionable. Everything around him seemed to slow down as he lay rigid on the cold concrete that had an odd odor; Eames could only guess it to be a mixture of blood and mold, the mold setting in from most likely the leaking pipe above him and the blood coming from the poor souls who had been here before him. Alone with his thoughts.

The forger listened to the sound of his own raspy breathing which he kept calm and deep, the chill in the air making his body painfully shiver, only small tremors, but enough to make his aches double in strength as he took the many bruises he felt forming. The water was like a clock counting down the minutes until he would eventually die or lose his mind depending on what they did to him, the man couldn't help but think of the past occupants that had been in this room. Wondering what kind of torment befell them before they ultimately met either their demise or were beaten into a vegetable state; whichever way he spun it; Eames knew he was doomed to go through a large amount of agony to give up the information they wanted. _'I'd rather meet my maker than tell them, there's no way I'm going to crack. I can handle this.'_

His somewhat positive thoughts were cut short as he was painfully reminded not to move his head too quickly as he turned it towards the door to find a shadow being cast beneath it, the shuffle of shoes against the concrete sounded strange to his ringing ears as he blinked to clear his clouded vision. _'Oh bugger! Feels like the worlds worst hangover.'_

The shadow moved away after a few minutes; Eames barely noticed as he continued to try and clear his vision, a hammer seemed be pounding his skull with the intention of completely breaking through as he groaned quietly. The voice of the leader echoing in his mind like a CD on repeat, the man's manner of speaking was polite and smooth, rolling from his mouth in a way that made Eames feel like he was in a presence of a higher ranking person in a business. While the words that the forger heard between the polite ones cut through him like a knife, the well mannered way of speaking was to hide the man's secrets that only Eames could pick up on.

He heard faint wavers between the words that were mute to normal people, but a person of Eames' profession knew how to really hear what they were saying underneath all that. The unspoken words that were said by the small changes in their breath or voice, the speed they spoke with, everything gave off hints that raised the forger's red flags. He could hear the desperation of a man who badly wanted answers while also hearing a side that was angry and maybe confused, someone who would do anything to get what he wanted. Maybe to resolve some old quarrel with Cobb and Arthur? Than why go to such lengths?

_'Something serious happened to this guy, and I need to find out what it is.'_

The voice repeated the words spoken again and again, the voice slowly becoming more and more familiar. Eames analyzed it in his head, again, again, over and over until finally he gasped with a painful movement that made his headache increase.

"Robert Fischer."

Those words left his mouth quietly and quickly before he took a sharp breath, the door unlocked and was swung open to reveal the large man who was accompanied by a friend who was bigger, both their buff bodies grabbing the forger up before he could even get a word out, throwing a blind fold over him and pulling him roughly out the door. His feet dragged until he was thrown forward, his fall was stopped when a metal object hit his chest, his head falling enough for his chin to collide with the object that he guessed to be a tub before his body completely slumped. He listened carefully to muttered words that were spoken, trying to commit them to memory to think over before his wrists were grabbed and forced behind his back.

A wire was wrapped around them, digging into his skin as they tightened it and a skinner hand grabbed the back of his neck. A quick but warm breath hitting his ear as the person knelt beside him, he could sense the smile on the man's face as he spoke quietly. "Let's go for a swim."

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**This is a short chapter I know, but I wanted to kind of give you a little something while I try to plan out the next chapter. I hope you all enjoyed chapter 4 and please let me know your honest thoughts on it so far.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I don't own Inception**

**I'm glad you all enjoyed the last chapter and I would like to take the time to thank vAmpbAbe6 for helping me out. Also, a big thanks to all my readers, you all help me improve in my writing so much and I just am very grateful.**

**Anyway, please enjoy this next chapter. **

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"Tell me where they are." Eames glanced at the businessman beside him, his skinny hand curled around the back of the forgers neck with a grip so tight that the weaker man couldn't help but hiss; the hot breath on his ear made his stomach turn. Fischer could see the front that the man was putting up and would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed, soon enough the impression turned to desire as he threw Eames' head closer to the water. The forger's bruised chest and messed up ribs exploded with a pain so bad that Eames couldn't barely contain his cry, his teeth clenched tightly as he sucked in a sharp breath.

"Mr. Eames, this can go smoothly or forcefully, it's your choice which route we take." The calm voice of Fischer still held the desperate and almost hateful tone that only Eames could pick up on as the man shifted impatiently, waiting for some kind of response. Something that the beaten man was not going to give him; Eames wasn't prepared for the hard punch to his back, the force pushing him against the tub in a more forceful way. It was at the moment that the forger felt fresh blood enter his mouth as he bit through his tongue, he didn't even feel his teeth go through as he spit out some blood that hit the water.

The red ripple seemed to smack Eames in the face as he remembered that it was life or death at this point, every wrong thing he's done in his life coming to mind as he made his choice. Forceful wouldn't get him to talk; Fischer was no fool, he knew the forger choose to take the information to the grave, but that didn't mean he couldn't have a bit of payback along the way. "So be it."

The next thing the beaten man knew, the hand around the back of his neck held tighter as he was thrown head first into the bath water, the ice cold water was like needles piercing his skin. The cold water coming as a shock to him as he felt his heart skin a beat before everything went black.

Eames wasn't surprised when he discovered he'd been taken back to his cell, he knew all too well the heat he was feeling as he attempted to take some deep breaths. He always felt slightly hot and was almost out of breath when he woke from fainting, something he'd come to get used to when he would work himself to the point of complete exhaustion when he was first starting out in the dream sharing business.

Slowly, he took in his environment, as if trying to get reacquainted with it. The ground now wet from the leaking pipe that was dripping faster than it had earlier. The explanation was most likely the rain he could hear outside, the water hitting the building without a care in the world with thunder bellowing high in the sky. It's claps were music to Eames' ears as he shut his eyes, ignoring his sore throat and fresh, hand shaped bruises; blocking out the insufferable silence and instead picturing himself somewhere far away from here.

Somewhere he always loved as a child, the faint memories of Big Ben coming to mind as he remembered how he'd always go see it with his mom. He remembered how every thick strand of her dark brown hair blew in the gentle breeze as great bell chimed; the way her strong form glided gracefully on the cold ice as she held his hand for comfort. Her patience as she taught him to skate, the smile that was brought to her face when he first managed to skate on his own.

Even the alluring smell of her famous English breakfast, which was something she always made with the utmost love and care. The mere thought of his mother's culinary skills made his stomach knot, reminding him that it was empty and now enjoying the thought of delicious cooking.

_'I'll have to see mum when this is all over.'_

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"Where would they have taken Eames? Why abduct him? What-" Arthur threw up his left hand, never taking his eyes off the laptop screen. The gesture managed to stop Cobb in his tracks, the point man finally turning to face the extractor who spared him a long glance that felt like the definition of impatient.

"For right now my answer to all of those is, I don't know. I will find out, if you'll give me some time." The answer was simple; the answer was nothing short of the truth that seemed to strike the extractor in the face as he snapped his head towards the window and stopped dead in his tracks. His irritated sigh and slightly uncaring posture were almost mimicked by Arthur who took the initiative to sit up straighter than he ever had.

Standing straight was his way of showing he was in his element; he was at his best, ready to do whatever it took to get the information he needed to retrieve their friend as quickly as possible. His fingers danced across the keyboard keys so quickly that he couldn't really comprehend what he was typing; the words seemed to flow as he started to make a small amount of progress.

Finally, he managed to get a hold of someone who'd been out of contact with him for a while. The team was laying low after performing Inception and he thought it best to stay out of contact with his eyes and ears. Saito's men are stationed to keep tabs for him at Cobol; the business man had also been adamant about keeping a close eye on Fischer's company.

The point man couldn't help but feel somewhat relieved that he would be able to question both companies' actions over the last few days. The creeping feeling that he was a little closer to locating Eames was one that he savored but didn't let get the best of him as he maintained a professional disposition. Clearing his throat as one of the Japanese men came to the small web cam that was set up in one of the laptops provided by Saito.

"Has there been anything out of the ordinary?" Arthur asked in a somewhat rushed and out of breath voice as he finished letting the man in on everything that had happened, the anxiousness in his voice only made the agent look even more serious as he glanced quickly glanced back. Turning to the left and right while wetting his lips as he got closer to make sure he was heard through the somewhat sketchy connection.

"_Mr. Fischer was acting strangely the last few days; no one has seen him since day before yesterday__.__"_ Arthur mulled over the answer before throwing out another question. "Did he leave on a business trip?"

"_No, no one knows where he is."_ The Japanese man still held his serious expression, _"he didn't tell anyone where he was going, although none of the workers are concerned."_

"Why aren't they?"

"_This is not the first time he's done this; Mr. Fischer has been going out for the past few weeks without explanation."_

Arthur nodded slowly while the gears in his head reeled, the man on the web cam could see that he'd clearly gotten whatever he needed from the conversation and cut off the connection. Leaving Arthur to stare at the screen before turning to Cobb who stood to his right, clearly agitated as he glanced down at the sitting point man.

"Fischer was tailing him."

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**Hopefully I'll get the new chapter out soon, sorry for the long delay. Life sadly gets in the way.**


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